Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

HONK!! HONK!!

Max was now in a car.

It wasn’t like the cars back in his ’real’ world. The cars here were different, like a collision of modern and medieval themes.

The one he was being driven in was bigger than the rest in the roads. There was so much space inside that Max felt he had to pay rent.

He sat in the back, while a stony-faced official in a dark suit sat beside him.

Leaning his head against the cool, tinted glass, he watched the slums blur into streaks of gray before vanishing entirely.

It had been two days since he arrived in this world, and that had been enough time for him to gather his scattered wits.

The panic of waking up in the mud had subsided, now he had accepted the truth.

He had transmigrated.

He was in the Earth of Awakener Supreme.

He wasn’t the hero or the villain.

He was Lancet Leogardt. Basically a nobody.

An extra.

A slum rat whose narrative purpose was likely to serve as background decoration or casual fodder for those bullies to beat up until he eventually died.

Max had no idea how. He never thought transmigration could be real, neither did he imagine that it would ever happen to him.

In a realistic way at least.

However, he could think of a reason why it happened.

It must be his punishment. For the review bombing. For calling the author a hack to his face. The universe or someone decided to throw me into the deep end.

Hah! Jokes on them though. Max loved this.

On Earth, he had nothing to go back to.

His parents had passed years ago. He had no girlfriend, no job, and his only hobby was escaping into worlds like this.

If he played his cards right, he could hang around for quite a while in this place.

Even if he only lasted two years, seeing a fantasy world in HD/3D was worth it.

This view right now, the kingdom of Aethelgard, was proof.

Aethelgard was the new England. After the appearance and the attack of the Second World, thrusting the world into near apocalypse, it was in England where the world began to fight back.

Now the kingdom of Aethelgard, the nation like most of the world, was reimagined into a ”Modern Gothic.”

Max had depended on his imagination back when he was reading the light novel, but now, he could see exactly what was meant by that phrase.

The world was like the medieval times, but rather than cobblestones, they were built with iron, with glass and high grade wood.

Some buildings had statues like gargoyles plated in gold, others rose like spires of castles, made of iron and plaster.

It almost looked like the everyday world Max was used to, except everything had a medieval touch to it.

The roads were paved with hex-cut stone slabs, perfectly aligned, with faintly illuminated grooves that functioned like lane markings.

They drove past a cool looking traffic light standing tall like an ornate obelisk. The other cars around them dispersed motes of different colored light out of their exhaust rather than smoke.

Max watched the people on the sidewalks.

He saw teenagers wearing denim, but the jackets were cut long and belted like tunics. He saw businessmen in suits, but the lapels were high and sharp, resembling aristocratic doublets. He saw hoodies too, but they were draped like cowls.

An amused but fascinated smile squeezed his cheeks. It was unbelievable to him that he was really witnessing this.

They whizzed by a workshop displaying a mannequin in platinum armor holding a greataxe.

Some Awakeners were gathered around it.

Max’s eyes widened.

Awakeners!

He saw more of them, walking openly, clad in different shiny armor. They were basically treated like celebrities by the passersby.

’Can’t believe I’m going to be one of them,’ Max thought.

”We’re arriving,” the driver announced.

The car slowed as it approached the district that housed the governing body of this world’s defense.

The Awakener Supreme Institute.

Max stared at the building.

”Woah,” he murmured without knowing.

It was glorious. Just as the novel had described it, the building was absolutely glorious.

In fact, the text on a screen couldn’t do justice to the sheer scale of it.

At first, it looked like a cathedral, and then a fortress. From the last slab of steps to the tip of the spires, it was covered with white marble and gold iron.

The architecture resembled that of kings in the ancient times, except it had been updated with 25th century technology.

A large golden crest with the insignia of a 12-edged star was carved into the pediment, supported by six towering golden columns that upheld the massive entablature below.

Max was still staring when the officials opened the door. ”Out. Move it.”

He stepped out, his sneakers scuffing against the pristine paved stones. He felt woefully out of place in his mud-stained hoodie and torn jeans, smelling of the slums.

But it was all his proud elder sister, Marcet could get him before he took off for the Academy.

They led him up the stairs and the guards by the large doors opened them for him to step in.

”Can’t believe the Seers picked up a candidate from the slums. Who expects a slummer to awaken?”

”Eh, don’t worry. He only has the potential to awaken, but with frail bones like that, he definitely won’t.”

”Waste of paperwork. He’ll be back in the gutter by noon.”

Max didn’t hear everything, but he knew the essence of their gossip. And to be fair, they weren’t entirely wrong.

As the doors closed behind him, he came into realization of what was before him.

Hundreds of teenagers gathered in loose clusters.

They were the cream of the crop: scions of noble houses, children of wealthy merchants, or legacy admits from Awakener families. They wore tailored suits, designer streetwear, and polished armor.

Even the lowborns were dressed nicely. He was the only one in near rags. The only slummer.

”Is that... mud?” someone whispered.

”Who let a stray in?”

”Guard your pockets.”

Max sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Of course. He had to be the underdog.

The weak-to-strong trope. It was classic, effective, for authors, but hell, it was annoying to actually live through.

Suddenly, the lights in the hall dimmed. A spotlight snapped onto the raised dais at the far end of the room.

A man stepped into the light. He was tall, wearing the flowing black and silver robes of the Institute’s Dean.

Dean Ordenance, Max remembered.

He had a gray beard and sharp eyes, one blue and the other silver.

Ordenance raised his hands, and his voice boomed without a microphone, amplified by pure magic.

”Welcome to Awakener Supreme,” he began. ”The Academy where the gifted Awakened of our world master the power of Grace to hone their talents! We stand as the shield against the encroaching evil of Gehenna and the corrupting touch of Gloom.”

Max felt a shiver run down his spine. It was the exact speech he had been reading on his phone before he smashed it.

”Hundreds of legends graduated from this very institution!” the Dean continued. ”Soros the Great Pyromancer! Leobard the Heavenly Knight! Theron the Star Maker!”

The crowd watched in rapt silence, captivated by the promise of glory.

Ordenance lowered his hands, taking a more solemn expression.

”You have been chosen by the Royal Seers because you possess the spark. But a spark is not a fire. Today, we determine if you will burn bright, or fade into ash.”

He gestured to a massive, intricate runic circle engraved into the floor of the dais.

”You will step forward, one by one. You will enter the circle. Your Class Group has been predetermined so only your Class shall be revealed. If... you do awaken one.”

The Dean smiled cunningly.

”Let the Event begin!”